


Tres Neutrales

by CinderScoria



Series: her name is jade [7]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen, spoilers through season three episode 47
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio run into each other, and trouble while they're at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tres Neutrales

**Author's Note:**

> I call these guys my Tres Neutrales: True Neutral (Amelia), Chaotic Neutral (Simon, and Neutral Good (Five). Probably the best brot3 ever. 
> 
> Wrote this for a nonny who requested something with Simon Lauchlan, and thus the series was born.

Amelia’s going to kill him. Soon as she gets out of these ropes, she’s going to reach over and wring his lizard-scaled neck. One look at Five and she knows she’s with her.

 

Simon’s still prattling on. “Bet you really regret taking this assignment, eh Five? Figured by now you’d be sick of crazy zombie-worshipping cults who try to sacrifice you.”

Five shoots him a dark look, and he cackles. “I’m only saying you have some experience!”

They’re tied to an old metal fence, separated by a meter or two. Pity, Amelia thinks. She wants to be close enough to kick him. Five looks beyond exasperated by this turn of events. They were supposed to be investigating a disturbance at one of their shared ammo stashes. Well, Five was—she just ran into Simon and Amelia, who really weren’t syphoning off of Abel at all, honest. Five’s too smart to believe them.

In any case, they were attacked by some psychotic cult, whisked off to some abandoned farm, trussed up like sacrificial lambs, and left to the zombs. And here they are, with Simon running his mouth and Amelia struggling with her ropes so she can grab the hidden knife in her belt and send it through his eye.

Five’s studiously staring into the distance, brow furrowed. Amelia has decided to ignore the shuffling zombs moseying closer and closer in favor of getting the hell out of here. And Simon looks completely content with waiting for his doom to come. One would think someone who’s been through what he has would be more concerned with a repeat performance. But Amelia doesn’t claim to understand Simon. Or like him, for that matter.

“Simon,” she says when she sees him open his mouth again, “I feel obliged to let you know that if we don’t get eaten by zombies, I’m going to rip out your arms and stuff them into your mouth.”

Five smirks. Simon grins at Amelia and waggles his eyebrows. “I’m down for it if you are, sweetheart.”

Oh dear lord. Amelia rolls her eyes skyward and hates everything.

“Hey, Five,” he says, looking past Amelia to the runner on the end, “didn’t I hear Sam once say you have incredible talent with untying knots of any kind?”

Amelia must have looked adequately horrified, because Simon full out guffaws. “I’ve always wondered how he came to know that. Want to share anything, Five?”

The teenager turns her head and mouths very slowly,  _“Fuck you up the ass with a jackhammer.”_

Simon doesn’t seem daunted. “So if you’re so good with untangling stuff, why ain’t we out yet?”

Five shifts a little so she can show the hands tied behind her back. Then she flips him off and settles back with a satisfied grin.

“You were just waiting for me to look, weren’t you?” Simon tells her.

Five shrugs.

Amelia’s disappointed she can’t rub her forehead. “Much as I hate to admit it, Simon has a point. You’re our only hope of surviving this.”

“Help me, Runner Five,” Simon pleads in a high pitched voice, straight faced.

“Keep it up, princess, and your gene spliced genitals will join your arms,” Amelia says, matter of fact.

“You are no fun,” Simon grumbles as Five continues to pick at the ropes.

Amelia wasn’t joking when she said everything is riding on Five. She’s the only one without a noose attached to her hands, slowly strangling them every time they pull at their bonds. Amelia assumes it’s because they ran out of rope. Either that or they didn’t see Runner Five as a threat—improbable, as Five’s reputation has stemmed far beyond the reach of Abel and even New Canton, but still possible. In any case, the teen’s the closest to being free. Except she doesn’t seem to be moving.

“Five,” Amelia starts to say, but Five stops her with a cock of her head, listening intently. She still has her headset on her. Amelia had missed it, as it is on the side of her head that faced away and is partially hidden by her thick curls. After a moment Five nods to herself and then goes to work on the knots.

“Ooh,” Simon drawls. “Is it safe to assume the cavalry’s coming?”

Five doesn’t even look at him. She frowns, twisting a little bit. Simon arches an eyebrow in Amelia’s direction. “Papa bear Sam Yao to the rescue. This team up certainly has its perks.”

Amelia can hear it now: the steady beeping of a noisemaker. A minute later and Runner Four, Jody, and Runner Six, Owen, appear in the distance. Owen waves at the sight of them tied to the fence. Jody calls, “You got this, Five?”

Five just gives her a grin, which is good news because the zombs are on their way. Owen and Jody exchange nods, knowing their assignments, and take off in one direction. The horde follows them off a ways before the two split up, and the ruse works like a charm.

In the meantime, Five has untied her knots. Simon whistles. “That was fourteen seconds. I’m impressed.”

The teen wrinkles her nose in response, turns, and jumps back. Amelia twists to see a small group of fast zombs, and they’re living up to their moniker. They’re approaching rapidly, be on them in a minute, maybe less.

Simon’s spotted them too. His face turns chalk white. “Five—”

Five is already moving. She snatches a loose pole from the fence, snaps off the rest of the links, hefts it like a javelin, and sends it spearing through the chest of the first zomb. It topples backwards, catching a couple of others. She’s bought them some time, but only seconds worth.

“Five, come on,” Simon says, his voice rising a little bit as Five moves to Amelia. “I know you’re faster than this, all right, please just—”

“Shut up, Simon,” Amelia snaps, gasping a little as Five tightens the noose in order to undo the knot. She coughs as soon as it’s off. Eight seconds. Five’s fingers deftly pick at the strands like she was born for the job, and in another twelve seconds Amelia’s hands are free.

“Five!” Simon shouts. Five sprints to him, slides in the dirt at his side, and gets to work on his. Amelia stands and stretches and looks for a weapon that isn’t just her rather small blade. Twenty seconds for Simon’s ropes to fall away, and the man scrambles away from the post and grabs the teen as she starts to stand.

“What took you?” He laughs a little when he says it, but his forehead glistens with perspiration. Five gives him a look and then gazes at Amelia. She holds up her knife, at which Five twists her face in distaste. Well, not everyone can hoist heavy axes around them all the damn time.

They are severely outmatched without weapons so, with a single glance to convey the plan, the three take off. Amelia goes one way, because she has the knife, and because Five has that angry protective Mama Bear expression that means Simon’s going to get a severe talking to as soon as they’re alone. The small horde mostly follows her. That’s fine by Amelia—she’s been itching to tear out some throats.

It takes a lot of ingenuity and stubbornness on her part, but she gets it done. Simon finds her ten minutes later covered in zombie blood and casually cleaning her knife on a remarkably white handkerchief. Simon looks properly abashed. Amelia smirks.

“Arms are still attached, I see.”

Simon laughs. “I know how disappointed you must be. You really wanted to do the reaming yourself.”

Amelia shrugs. If she couldn’t handle Simon’s nonstop babbling she would have ditched him a long time ago. She arches an eyebrow at him. “And are you whole on the inside as well?”

He has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Was it that obvious?”

“It’s not an irrational fear to have.”

“I behaved irrationally,” he argues. “Was no help to you, was I?”

“We have established already that I do not need your help,” Amelia says. She pauses, studies him, and throws him a bone. “I cannot expect you to be much use when you’re faced with a trigger like that.” There. Could’ve been said better, but the gist of it was there.

Simon snorts. “Gee, Amy, you’re all heart.”

“It’s Amelia, Simon, for the last time.”

A shrug from him is all she gets in response, which is an improvement in itself. “All right then,” she says with a sigh, “we should get moving. Is it safe to assume that Abel will be moving their supply of ammunition?”

“Oh yes,” Simon replies. “Janine was pissed. She says to tell you hello, by the way, and that negotiations are the easiest ways to prevent a war.”

“Sounds like a personal challenge.” Amelia stows away her knife. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Simon pauses, smirks, and says, “Princess.”

Amelia’s going to kill him.


End file.
